


This will never grow old, it will never die

by Gallaxyk__Nathaniel_Dream



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: 18th Century, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, First Time, Gay, Gay Sex, Historical Accuracy, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Immortality, M/M, POV First Person, Vampire Bites, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Vampires are gay culture, fangs are hot, no attempted murder here
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:54:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallaxyk__Nathaniel_Dream/pseuds/Gallaxyk__Nathaniel_Dream
Summary: Lestat and Louis are immortal. There is a lot of time to get used to each other.And really, they hunt people for sport. Debauching each other under the judging eyes of centuries of prohibation surely isn't the worst they have ever done.Look, I'm just really gay for Lestate, okay?Suggestions/wishes are very welcome for this little gay journey through the centuries
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Kudos: 8





	This will never grow old, it will never die

**Author's Note:**

> This is not yet beta read because, frankly, I watched iwtv with my darling best friend Satan yesterday and I had to get this started and posted before I turn insane.  
> I am currently working on a long witcher fanfic and I don't have time to wait for my amazing friends to beta this. Might beta later but for now you have to live with this  
> This is currently being rewritten. But first I have to get the next chapter done.

I remember this one very well. It was only a few years after Lestat turned me. I was still squeamish with the idea of being a vampire. I still mourned my human life, no matter how miserable it had been.

I think most of all I missed seeing people as, well, _people_ and not just as a possible feast. I wanted to fall in love again, feel a real bed under me and not just my coffin. 

I didn’t tell Lestat. He wouldn’t have understood, I was sure of that. He was so used to this life, I believed he never wished for anything else.

Well, in 1797 Lestat took me southwards, downstream the Mississippi River, until we reached California Bay. We had ridden horseback for about five hours. It was summer so the nights were short and the moon was standing high overhead. 

He took me down to the water. I wasn’t sure why he had chosen a summer night for such a long trip, but when the warm sand engulfed us, I knew. We sat on the shore and talked. It was so warm that it almost made me feel alive again. Everytime Lestat brushed my skin I could feel that he was warm. Of course not naturally but the warm air allowed me to believe. 

I don’t know how he convinced me that we should have a swim, but the next thing I remember is having his bare chest against my back and the water surrounding us.

I hope I am not too forward, describing this, but the intimacy of that night was baffling.

Lestat had been dancing around me since the night he turned me. And I think that after six years, I wasn’t immune to his advances after all. The first few times he had embraced me, or put his lips to my ear, or, God forbid, bluntly invited me to debauchery, I assumed he was merely joking, enjoyed making me uncomfortable as per his cruel nature. But that night I learned the error in my thought. 

Despite what his sadistic hunger and his teasing smirks would have one believe he was and still is a very attentive lover. I can’t say that I ever felt anything like his touch that night. Maybe it was the novelty of it all, maybe it was the rush of doing something so forbidden yet sweet, that night everything felt amplified.

At the time I still marveled at Lestat’s spontaneity but in retrospect I know that he had planned this for a long time. He had brought a small vial of oil and chosen a marvelous scenery. Lestat still insists that he only did it to make me willing, but I choose to believe that he too wanted our first experience of intimacy to be memorable.

I remember Lestat laying me down on the shore again and licking the water from my chest. That only served to rile me up beyond measure and soon I was urging him on to go deeper. And ever the sadist that he is, he didn’t. On the contrary, he moved back up my body, claiming my lips and softly kissing my neck. I was so occupied with this that I barely even noticed how he slicked his finger, that is, until he pushed it into me. I must admit, that was the first time I had ever been penetrated and it was a truly peculiar feeling. 

Lestat took his time with his work, spreading me first on one finger, then two, then three. I must admit, when he withdrew them I was concerned. As I mentioned, I had never had intercours with another man. I can’t phantom what brought him to his actions, but the moment he slid into me his fangs pierced my neck. 

For all the humans out there who have never felt the biting kiss of a vampire let it be said that there is no stronger aphrodisiac than the warm trickle of your own blood under someone’s coaxing lips and teeth.

We had to spend the day in an old fishing hut since morning came before we could ride back. I can’t say I hated it as much as the fisher who found us at early noon. It was a pleasant surprise to have a feast after the _draining_ activities of the night at the shore. 

I know for a fact that Lestat enjoyed our first night just as much as I did, if not more. Vampires have a lot of desires, and a lot of time to act on them, you see, but even we have to take the arduous journey of _starting_ to act on them.


End file.
